selfhelp | [Voice/Action]

[Okay, so. Post-draft, he's given himself a few days of seclusion and bed-rest (apparently being infected with a zombie virus is exhausting), and even Billy can freely admit to himself that he's been pretty depressed lately, a fact for which he feels no shame considering that depression was well and truly earned. One can only spend so much time fretting, moping, and dwelling on one's own misery for so long, however, and today? He's decided that enough is enough. Billy will be going out today, limping around the village and visiting the people who were on the draft whose fate he's still uncertain of. The ones he can't find or has no reason to actually visit, he'll check with a light location spell, and he'll spend a few hours at Seventh Heaven people-watching out the window while he doodles in a book that Teddy had given him containing a series of patterns (much like this) that resemble inkblogs, and bit by bit Billy's turning them into something like this instead. It's been a tiring week, though, so you could always catch him napping on the table, instead.

At some point he'll attempt to find Peter, and when both a location spell and a teleport fails, he tries to teleport to the apartment he'd been staying at instead, finding it almost completely emptied. All he manages to dig up is a small cartridge that, after a moment of scrutiny, he identifies as a web fluid cartridge. His fanboyish glee at the discovery is tempered by the fact that the empty apartment means one more piece of bad news.

After his visits and window-watching is done, he'll return home to make the announcement, along with one more message-]

Hey out there... just wanted to let his friends know that Peter Parker went home. So... sorry. Yeah.

[Locked to Loki]

...We still on for tomorrow, or do you want to take a break? Because... you know. [Draft. Awfulness all around. He wouldn't blame Loki if he wanted to take a week off.

Later on in the evening he'll be over at Ben's barbeque, if anyone wants to bother him while he's there.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Oof. And he was cozy. He barely looks up, reluctant to meet her gaze; he knows that what she's saying is true enough, but he still feels so... limited. He's not some great leader or battle-seasoned soldier. He's a scrawny kid from the Upper West who can't even draw a bowstring or lift a sword or swing a decent punch to save his life. Viral tried. And he can't look at a wound anymore without bringing back memories he'd rather left buried as much as he can. He's pretty good at dodging attacks and staying balanced while airborne and hey, he knows how to dance, and that's... still useless.

The pessimist in him is very, very stubborn apparently.]

They can take that too, remember? They did it a few months ago. They took our memories... now our powers, too. They can take everything from us and leave us empty, if they want.

[And it's damned depressing to be so helpless. Especially when identity means so, so much.]

[ She sighs, one of her hands moving up to brush his hair out of his face in an affectionate gesture. She's not sure where said gesture even comes from. It's not a thing she does every day, precisely. ]

Then what we have is each other. Remember what I said? About relying on other people? [ Her smile is so gentle as she lowers her hand back to his shoulder. ]

Billy, as much as they take, they can't take who we are. Maybe they can change it, but it's always temporary, and they can't take it away completely. There'll always be something. You have to hold onto hope.

[He stirs a little at the gesture, his eyes lifting again to meet her gaze. Temporary... that's true, isn't it. Whatever happens here just wears off, dusted under the carpet as a bad memory, another unpleasant week of one's life. It sounds so simple, when put that way.

But a bad day - a really bad day - can ruin you for life.

He winces, forcing that thought back down into the crevices of his mind where it belongs, and lifts his free hand to press against his face, right over his eyes, his voice muffled.]

Ugh, I just... sometimes I get so tired of feeling like this. A year ago my biggest worry was how to hide a bruise.

[It's not like he regrets, or would want to change the turn his life had taken - in so many ways, it's infinitely better than it used to be. He has a second family now, friends who genuinely care about him, a boyfriend who would literally die for him and loves him wholeheartedly. But certain memories he could happily do without, like losing friends, watching people die, witnessing the love of his life being tortured...

...it's just... a lot of weight on his shoulders, and he's never been that strong.]

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[action] you should work on getting good feels instead

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